


give your heart & soul to me, and life will always be (la vie en rose)

by SapphireQueen



Series: by the power bested in me [the weddings au] [2]
Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BAMF Moira, Canon Disabled Character, Charles Is a Darling, Emma Frost HBIC, Emma and Moira are nervous, Erik is a Troll, Erik is an asshole, F/F, They are also the best men, Weddings, and already married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-01 19:30:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2785022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireQueen/pseuds/SapphireQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik had warned them that planning a wedding wasn't easy, but Emma and Moira are always up to the task of proving him wrong.<br/>-<br/>Or how Emma and Moira plan they're wedding and things still go crazy anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Planning the Wedding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> For myinfinitethoughts because she's been an AMAZING friend and we are slowly making Emmoira a popular ship :D

                                                            

 

   Moira fidgeted the box in her purse, a cold sweat down her back as she looked at how her girlfriend calmly dined on her favorite almond soup at their favorite restaurant, celebrating their fifth anniversary as girlfriends and she had decided this was going to be _the_ night.

Earlier she had texted Charles: _I’m going to do it. I’m going to ask her to marry me._

She quickly received a text back: _I’m going to warn you, there’s no way to surprise a telepath; so try to do it as genuine as possible._

Moira sighed; of course she’d known that. Erik wouldn’t shut up about he had wanted to propose, but Charles had beat him to the punch.

“Moira,” Emma’s voice brought her back to reality, to the reality of her beautiful girlfriend dressed in the prettiest light blue dress she owned and her looking at her with those crystalline eyes. “Are you okay? You haven’t touched your soup.”

“Oh,” Moira blinked, quickly taking the spoon into her hand and tasting her favorite pumpkin soup. Luckily for her, it was still warm. “I’m okay, just… a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“I can help you with that,” She says grinning and suddenly she feels her foot rubbing against one of her legs and Moira shivers. “I think we have enough time for a stress relief section in the bathroom.”

Moira’s face flushes furiously, gripping the spoon so tightly, she thought it might bend. _This is the woman I want to marry; this is what I’m getting into._ She finds herself pleased with this, even though it would be a hell of a lot of work.

“Emma,” She starts and she feels her voice shake, quiver under the anticipation of just about everything. “I—Okay, wait, gimme a second.” She takes a deep breath and stands up, slowly walking towards her girlfriend and bending down on one knee, careful not to ruin her favorite lilac dress. “You probably saw this coming, because you’re incredible. You’re a telepath who is also a literal diamond and you’re beautiful and deadly and intelligent and there are so many other reasons I could list as to why I am so in love with you and why I would like to spend the rest of my life with you, and I know I’m not much, but you would make me the happiest woman on the planet if answer this simple question,” She opens the box. “Would you marry me?”

Emma smiles, a smile that seemed to sincere and bright and _– holy shit, is she crying?—_ and just leaned down and kissed Emma. “Yes,” She answers in a low shaky breath. “Yes, yes, yes!” Moira stands up and slips the ring on Emma’s finger; it was simple band of white gold. Surprisingly, Emma takes on out of her pocket, exactly the same, and slips it on Moira’s finger. “So people know you’re taken too.”

She feels like the world is to perfect, that the moment is too crystalline as she wraps her arms around Emma’s neck and pulls her in to kiss her. Some of the people in the restaurant congratulate them; Emma’s favorite waiter brings them a bottle of champagne.

 **[to: Charles  
 from: Moira]** _Well… I’m getting married!_

 **[from: Charles  
to: Moira; Emma]** _Congratulations_!

 **[from: Erik  
to: Moira; Emma]**   _Welcome to Wedding Planning Hell._

 

* * *

 

 _‘Erik Lehnsherr’s Top Eight Reasons why Planning a Wedding Sucks’_ The title read and Emma laughed in his face, pushing the paper away in her desk; Erik stared at her.

“We’re going to be fine,” Emma replies to Erik’s scowl, which creepily turns into a grin.

“Oh, sure, that’s what you’ll say now.” He says, sitting by her desk. Really, them working together at _Stark Industries_ shouldn’t be this annoying, usually it was Emma who annoyed him, but today he had deemed it his mission in life to prepare her for what’s _supposedly_ to come. “Wait until you are two months in and you’ll be fighting over which color the fucking table runner should be.”

“And thank _god_ Charles talked some sense into you,” Emma says with a roll of her eyes. “Who the fuck wants a Red and Purple themed wedding, Lehnsherr?”

“My point is,” Erik cuts her before she could ridicule him any further. “You’ll want this paper, you’ll see.” He says with a final, creep shark grin as he exits her office. She huffs.

 _I’m Emma Fucking Frost soon to be Frost-MacTaggert,_ She thinks. _Bring it on._

 

 

* * *

**_ 1\. Location _ **

“Beach.”

“Church.”

“Beach.”

“Church.”

“You aren’t even religious,” Emma sighs, looking through her iPad. She had taken the photo of Erik’s ridiculous list and shown it to Moira and she will not, she repeats, she will _not_ give that asshole the right to be correct. Moira sits beside her and sits Indian-style on the couch, cupping a Starbucks coffee in her hands, hair in a messy bun and wearing a pair of glasses that Emma should really do something about, it is illegal to look this cute. “I mean, you don’t regularly go to church, so what’s the point?”

“My family,” Moira says, putting the cup down on the coffee table. “They’re a bunch of Scottish jerks, Emma. Catholic guilt runs in the family.”

“We’re not getting married at a church,” Emma repeats, looking at her. “Although, we could compromise.”

“Keep talking.”

“What if we get one of those private beach resort-type hotels that have a small built in chapel?” She asks and if the grin and the quick _jump-on-my-fiancée_ kiss said anything, Moira is saying yes.

“You think of everything,” She says between kisses, Emma smiles.

“You’re damn right I do,” She says. _Point one for me, Lehnsherr_. She texts him later that night.

 

* * *

 

**_ 2\. Making a Guest List _ **

“We are not inviting your asshole friend to the wedding.”

“But Shaw needs to come; I need to rub it in his fucking face.”

“I said no,” Moira asks, huffing a cloud of air out, the perks of living in New York in January, everything just seems to be prettier. “Besides, do you want Erik to ruin the ceremony? Remember the last time he saw Shaw?”

“Hey,” Emma says, tucking her gloved hands into her coat pocket. “In my defense, they made that Art Gala much more interesting.”

“Charles had to pay to pay _bail money_.”

“It wasn’t a mayor charge, Moira.”

“They ruined one of Anne Marie’s paintings!”

“ _Fine_ ,” She says begrudgingly, taking her phone to her face and crossing off _Sebastian Shaw_. “So far we only have Charles and Erik, Raven, Azazel and baby Kurt, Anne Marie and Remy, Scott, Jean, Logan, Hank, your dad and sister, your extended list of Scottish cousins, my parents, Alex and Darwin.”

“Add Sean.”

“We are not adding Sean.”

“Why?”

“Oh, so you can invite your ex but I can’t invite mine?”

“The difference is we’re still _friends_ ,” Moira says, enunciating the word as much as she could. “Also, he’s dating Angel now, so add her too.”

“We don’t even _know_ Angel that well.”

“Add her,” Moira says as they come around into the café where they’re meeting Charles and Erik. Before they enter, Emma softly grabs Moira by the elbow. “What?”

“Kiss me before you go in,” Emma says in a soft voice. “I don’t want Erik to know we we’re fighting or else he wins.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Moira sighs and lets her arm go, not giving her a kiss but instead giving Emma her back as she turns to enter the café. Emma follows behind her. “Hey!” She hears her greet.

The fucking smirk that Erik gives her makes her want to punch him in the face.

 

* * *

 

**_ 3\. Setting a budget (this one is extremely risky if one half has loads of money)  _ **

“No,” Moira tells her fiancée for what seemed like the hundred time this past few months. “Your dad is not flying all of us to France so we can get married.”

“But _France_.”

“But nothing,” Moira retorts, rubbing her temples. _How could planning a wedding be so complicated?_ "Also, your dad is not paying so we can renting the resort for the entire week, just the weekend.”

“But he just wants the best!” Emma whines, settling down the couch, Moira stares from the kitchen of their small apartment, coffee cup run cold on the kitchen counter.

“No, we can’t afford it.”

“But my dad can.”

“Emma,” She sighs, she hates having this discussion. It makes her feel so useless to remember that Emma Frost comes from money and that she would never be able to grant her everything she deserves. Emma picking up on that, goes to the kitchen and hugs her, her head resting on Moira’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m _just_ —”

“It’s okay,” Emma replies, kissing the back of Moira’s neck. “I understand. Small wedding it is, then.”

“Thank you,” Moira whispers contently.

 

* * *

 

**_ 4\. Resisting the urge to elope _ **

The stress was getting to both of them, Charles could see that _clearly_. The four of them had finished going to cake testing, decoration venues, talked to the judge that was going to marry them, food tasting and along the way had argued over which routes to take and they were _tired_.

Especially since he and Erik had invited them only for dinner at the mansion and _dinner_ had somehow turned into _wine session_ which had turned into _therapy hour_.

“We should just elope,” Emma says, dragging her wine cup up to her lip, even drunk, still careful not to spill on anything. “Just fuck it, drive to Vegas right now and take these two assholes at witnesses and just _go_.”

Moira had less grace, already spilling a bit of white wine on her dress, thank god it was dark. “Oh my god, can you imagine Elvis marrying us? How cool would that be.”

“So cool.”

“We should go, we should go right now.”

“You two aren’t going anywhere.” Charles says, wheeling beside them and taking both of their wine glasses from their hands. _I think they’ve had enough._ “You two already have colors, a location, a guest list andthe food picked out, don’t give up now.”

Erik, for all the help he’s worth, is just laughing silently in the corner as he finishes washing the dishes. "It’s the wedding pressure, I knew they’d cave.”

“Shut the fuck up, Erik.”

“Moira, language!” Charles says, hoping baby Kurt is fast asleep and not listening to all of this going on.

“She’s sexy when she curses,” Emma says, taking Moira into her arms and both clumsily sitting on the couch, Charles sighs, thanking the universe he’d taken away the wine glasses.

“Say whatever you want,” Erik starts, coming back into the living room. “But you guys have actually made it in far more into what I thought you would.”

“Oh come on, Erik.” Charles starts, but finds himself smiling when he remembers how bad Moira was at organizing things and decides to agree with them. “Anyway, thank god you have us as best men because we stop at whatever shenanigans you two could come up with.”

Somehow, Charles saying _shenanigans_ was the funniest thing either of the had heard because they start laughing, really loud drunken laughter at first which then turns into silent, tear-jerking laughter that feels like it’s hard to breath. Charles sighs and feels Erik put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Do I start prepping the guest room?”

“Yes please,” Charles says as Moira and Emma’s laughter dies down, slowly following by the uncomfortable sound of them kissing, followed by soft snores. _Poor creatures must be exhausted_.

“Well,” Erik replies. “Planning a wedding is hard.”

“Thank god we had Raven.”

“And even she was a pain in the ass.”

“ _Erik_.”

 

* * *

 

**_ 5\. Making sure people come _ **

_“I was just wondering if you were coming to our… great! How many? Oh… all four of your sisters are coming? Gee… thanks, cousin Betty.”_

“I was just calling to see if you’re attending the wedding because it’s 80 fucking dollars a plate, Logan! Just answer the fucking question.”

_“Oh, Raven, Kurt isn’t going to be the only kid… I think. Emma, does your cousin Hannah have children?”_

“She has two boys that I hate.”

_“Well, they’re coming so Kurt isn’t alone.”_

“Fuuuuuck, now I have to call Hannah?”

_“Yep.”_

“I am regretting not going to Vegas.”

_“Well, thank Mr.-and-Mr.-Oh-you-two-can’t-handle-the-pressure-of-organizing-a-wedding.”_

“Oh no, we gotta prove those assholes wrong.”

_“I love when you get feisty.”_

“It’s my third natural state.”

**_“Yo, bub. I’m still on the fucking phone.”_ **

“Whoops, sorry.”

 

* * *

 

**_ 6\. Fight about things you don’t actually care about _ **

_“The theme is white and gold, Emma. We are not asking Erik to use a magenta cummerbund.”_

“But it’ll match the drapes.”

_“Then we change the fucking drapes! Why aren’t our drapes white or gold?”_

“Because I forgot to make that appointment.”

_“Did you forget to make the appointment for the buffet?”_

“We are not having a buffet! Buffets are for hillbillies!”

_“It’s an expensive buffet! With caviar and everything, how is that for hillbillies?”_

“Moira, we are not getting a chocolate fountain.”

_“But chocolaaaaaaaaaaate.”_

“No! Remember, darling, white and gold. It’ll clash.”

_“Oh, bite me.”_

“Also, Raven and Angel’s dresses should be hideous, we are the stars!”

_“We are not making our friends go through that, their dresses will be whatever color they like.”_

“But, babe.”

_“End of discussion, Emma.”_

“You’re no fun.”

 

* * *

**_7\. Register for gifts (you don’t actually need)_**           

“Honey,” Moira calls from the couch, staring at the laptop. “Do we need a muffin maker?”

“Well,” Emma replies, coming back to the couch and offering her some popcorn. “We don’t _need_ it, but now I want it.”

“Ugh,” Moira sighs, throwing her head back. “Whose bright idea was it to open a gift registry in Ikea?”

“Charles,” She puts her legs over Moira’s lap and turns on the TV, putting a _Game of Thrones_ episode she had recorded. “He assumes everyone needs stuff from Ikea.”

“Well, we do need a bookshelf,” Moira bits the tip of her pen, looking around their room. “My thesis books are all getting a little cluttered and having them thrown across the desk is horrible aesthetically.”

Emma takes the laptop from Moira and browses through their registry; cooking utensils, bookshelves, drapes, curtains, lamps, bed sheets, candles… everything seemed so utterly _domestic_.

“What’s wrong?” She hears Moira ask and she shakes her head.

“We should ask for a sex swing.”

“Where would we put one?” Moira asks nonchalantly, taking popcorn to her mouth. “Besides, Raven always loves getting gag gifts, she’ll probably give us a _something_ of the same type.”

Emma laughs. “Well, we have a honeymoon to look forward then.”

 

* * *

 

**_ 8\. Bachelor party (or in this case, Bachelorette parties)  _ **

The realization seemed to dawn on Moira the day before their wedding, it was May, and the weather was nice, comfortable and warm and Moira did not want to leave the apartment.

“Charles planned my bachelorette party,” She kept repeating, as Emma pushed her out the door. “ _Charles Xavier_ planned my bachelorette party.”

“Which is good,” Emma retorted, trying to push her fiancée out the door since Charles was waiting downstairs in a limo. “You got the fun husband. Erik planned mine and I have zero idea what he has in store for me.”

“Emma, if I don’t make it back alive I want you to know that I love you and I was the one who lost your favorite ivory coat.”

“Oh, come on, babe. You’re exaggerating and— _oh my god, my grandmother gave me that coat_!”

“I’m sorry.”

Emma sighed and turned her lover around. “Look,” She said, tucking Moira’s shirt tight. “Whatever Charles has planned cannot be worse than Raven’s bachelor party. Remember that disaster?”

Moira snorts. “All I remember is Raven’s hair nearly catching fire.”

“Exactly, now go along.” She says, turning her around and lightly smacking her backside, which made Moira shriek. “Have fun!” She says lastly as she closes the door.

A couple of minutes later, there was a knocking on her door and Emma finished putting her earing on before going up and answering, her eyes growing wide. “Erik… is that a monkey?”

“No time to explain, get in the limo, we’re driving to Vegas!”

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Emma woke up in their beach/lighthouse hotel room with various glitter objects stuck in her hair and Erik, Azazel, Janos and Angel blacked out, face down drunk on the floor. There was a monkey in the bathtub and for some reason, a tuba in the fish tank.

She laughed, easing her own and everyone else’s hangover before they woke up. She looks at Erik and laughs softly. _I will never, ever underestimate you again._

Her door opened softly as Charles wheeled in, accompanied by Raven, who had to bite her lip from laughing out loud. “I told him driving to Vegas was too far out,” He told Emma as Raven walked around the sleeping bodies to wake her husband up. “But he insisted he knew a guy.”

“I assume Moira’s okay?”

“Yeah,” Raven answered, softly shaking her husband awake, he blinks a few times before standing up. “We actually all checked in way before you guys came along, and when you did, well… let’s just say management had to call us. You guys were a mess in the lobby.”

It was harder to contain Emma’s laughter in this time as Angel and Janos woke up. “Who knew that asshole had it in him?”

Charles laughs, shaking Erik awake, who grumbled a few obesities before waking up. “Come on, Erik, let’s get you dressed and some breakfast in you before helping Emma.”

“Helping me?”

“Emma,” Erik says, scratching the back of his head. “You’re getting married today, remember?”

_Oh… oh shit._


	2. Before the Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hours before the wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one is relatively shorter than the previous chapters, but I promise you, the third one will be very, very long.

                                                            

 

“Moira,” Charles banged at the door. “Moira, let me in!”

“ _No_!” He heard back, the sound of a possible object being thrown at the door startled him. “Go away, Charles, I can get ready by myself.”

“You don’t sound ready,” Charles says, straitening his pants. He bites his bottom lip when he remembers Erik trying to get him to bed for a quickie session before they both separated to help the brides. _I am regretting not doing that right now,_ He thought as he texted Raven to get the key from the front desk. A couple of minutes later, Raven arrives with the key and they both push in so see Moira’s hair undone, makeup half applied, a wine bottle open and half empty, a glass  stained with her pink lipstick and still dressed in a bathrobe.

“Oh my god,” Raven said, something between a laugh and sheer amusement. “You have cold feet, don’t you?”   

Moira huffed and Charles was suddenly shot with a plague of emotions, a jumble of thoughts thrown his way, none of them his: _Oh my god, what am I doing? What if Emma doesn’t want me anymore? What if we go into some economic situation where her parents have to support us? No, no, oh god, kids, we haven’t even had the kids talk. What if she doesn’t want any? How am I going to handle that? I’m not ready for this, who the fuck was I kidding, I—_

“Moira,” Charles said, snapping her out of her train of thought. “You’re giving me a headache, calm down.”  Taking a deep breath out, Moira sits on the bed. “Raven, dear, if you would mind checking if everything is running smoothly, I would greatly appreciate that.”

Taking the hint, Raven nods and gets out of the room, locking the door behind her. “I know what you’re thinking,”

“No, no you don’t,” Charles interrupts, moving his wheelchair over to her. “Oh my god, and you dared criticize me when I was getting married. Remember that fiasco?”

“You were ready to bolt out the window,” Moira replies, the tension leaving her shoulders. “Yeah, whoa, I don’t blame you… this is… um… this is heavy stuff.”

“That it is,” Charles replies, taking the glass away from her. “But it’s also worth it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Moira huffs, throwing herself on the bed, putting her hands up to her face. “You married the love of your life, it’s like you too are synchronized or something, it’s weird.”

“And you’re going to marry yours,” Charles said, hoping from his chair to the bed to lay beside his best friend. “Look, remember when we were in college and you bet that you were going to get married before I did?” Moira laughs; Charles runs soft fingers through her hair. “Well, I beat you to the punch, so now you have to see this through.”

“Oh, shut it,” Moira says, sitting up. “It’s just, I’m nervous… Emma’s so… special. I’m just a boring old human, like, what can I offer her?”

“Nothing,” Charles says. “And also everything. Look the way you and Emma look at each other is unique in it of itself. You two love each other to death. Emma doesn’t care that you’re human, Emma loves you and dammit, you have to stop looking at yourself as if you are beneath her.” Charles sees how Moira’s shoulders fall, the soft waves of relief slowly hitting her… as they are hitting him as well. “Whatever happens today, we know this,” Charles said, taking her hand in his. “You are getting married today and that’s that. You are happy about this; you were the one to propose.”

Letting out a long breath, Moira nods. “I was the one to propose, okay, okay. I can do this.”

“Atta girl,” He says, lightly patting her shoulder. “Do you mind helping me to my seat? We have a dress we have to get you in.” Smiling, Moira helps Charles to his chair and looks for her light gold wedding gown. “Of course, I assume Emma gets to wear the white one?”

Moira smiles. “This one goes better with my eyes.”

 

* * *

 

Erik wastes no time fighting with Emma’s locked door. With a quick flick of his wrist, the door opens and he finds Emma is not in her room. “Frost,” He says. “You better have not jumped from the window! Everything is paid for already.”

“I’m in the bathtub.” He hears her and, again, he wastes no time with the locked door, opening it quickly and sitting down the toilet seat. “Erik! _Boundaries_!” He hears her say, but he ignores her. The bathtub is full of bubbles anyway, it’s not like he can _see_ anything. Besides, this is Emma Frost, he knows her way too personally, he couldn’t be attracted to her if he tried. “Jeez, thanks.” 

Erik smirks. “No problem,” He sees how Emma clutches her knees to her chest and he knows something is wrong; she never does that unless she’s deep in thought. “What are you doing?”

Emma sighs and doesn’t say much for a couple of seconds. That’s always been the most beautiful part of her and Erik’s relationship; one never pushed the other until they were ready. “Remember how you didn’t get cold feet when you were going to marry Charles?”

“Yeah?”

“Well… I’m having a mix of those emotions.” She says, running a hand through her wet hair. “I mean, I’m excited. I want to see Moira walk that aisle with me, I want to put the ring on her and tell her all that lovey-dovey stuff I wrote on my vow and I want us to look as in love and idiotic as you and Charles did on your wedding day.”

“Oh, you mean the day where you tried—and succeeded—in getting into MacTaggert’s pants?”

“And now I’m marrying her!” She says with a splash of her arms that made soapy water come out of the tub, Erik moves his legs away quick enough, muttering something along the lines of ‘ _careful, this is rented’_ and making Emma laugh. “I don’t know, everything’s just surreal.”

“Come on,” He says, standing up. “I’m going to wait for you outside. Finish up, get dressed comfortably cause we’re going on a little walk.” He slides out the door before she can protest.

 

* * *

 

This is the second wedding that Raven’s been a part of and she is _so_ glad she is not pregnant this time. “Where’s the florist? Why are these flowers blue? They’re supposed to be white and gold.”

“Mommy!” She hears her son say as he pulls the bottom of her dress. “Mommy, mommy, I’m hungry.”

“Where’s your father?” She says, hanging the phone up and looking for Azazel, who came out of the hallway putting his tie on. “Azazel, Kurt’s hungry.”

“Is he know?” He smiles, picking him up and kissing his cheek. “Let’s get the little man some food in him.” Kurt giggles and Azazel smiles before he turns his head to Raven. “Love, calm down.”

“Why do I keep agreeing to be a part of these?” Raven laughs at herself, easing into the comfortable arm of her husband. “I should retire.”

“You were never a wedding planner to begin with.” Azazel says as they head back to their room, looking for the snacks they have stored for Kurt. Azazel hands him some crackers and a juice box. “Don’t get your pretty clothes dirty, okay.” He tells him, while he nods and eats them.

He sits back on the bed with his wife and takes her hand. “I hope everything goes well.” She says, leaning into his shoulders. “By the way, what did you guys do at the bachelorette party?”

Azazel grins and puts his arm around his wife. “Well, it all started when Erik said he knew a guy and ended up appearing at our house with a monkey…”

 

* * *

 

The chapel was slowly getting full and Hank stood there for a moment, thinking of which side he should sit on. “Sir, MacTaggert or Frost?”

He looked around to see where his friends were all sitting. Logan, Scott and Jean were all sitting on the Frost side, while Alex, Darwin, Sean and Angel we’re all sitting at the MacTaggert. He hears Remy and Marie behind him say they’re sitting at the Frost side and decides he’s much more comfortable sitting at the MacTaggert side… Emma always did intimidate him.

 

* * *

 

_You having any luck? EL_

**Yeah, I managed to get Moira into her dress and she’s getting ready. CX**

_Emma’s still undressed, but I’m looking for Angel so she can help me out. EL_

_Dresses are a pain in the ass, by the way. EL_

**Then good thing you’re not wearing one. CX**

_I can’t wait until this is over. We haven’t christened that pretty big bed at our room. EL_

**Hush, Erik, it isn’t our day today. CX**

_I didn’t say it had to be. I love you. EL_

**I know. CX**

_Did you just Han Solo me? EL_

**;) CX**

 

* * *

Emma took a deep breath as she looked herself in the mirror; she was wearing a beautiful white gown and had ushered Erik and Angel out the door while she got her makeup and jewelry ready. Her hair was up in loose curls around her and her sleeveless white gown allowed for the pale of her throat and chest to be bare.

 _Wear this at your wedding day,_ She remember her nanny’s words as she took a small necklace with a pearl pendant out. _I know it’s not much, but you’re like my daughter and I want you to have it._

A tear slid down Emma’s cheek, she carefully wiped it away, to not ruin her makeup.  _I miss you, Betty._ She thinks, remembering Bertha’s soft smile and gentle laugh, more of a mother than Emma’s own, she gently preserves her memory in her heart _. I wish you could see her, Betty. Moira’s beautiful, and she’s so kind and brilliant, you would have loved her._

Softly putting the necklace on, she clamps two pearl earrings to her ears and she hears the door click open, Erik pokes his head through. “You okay? I heard sniffling.”

Emma smiles softly. “Remembering Betty.”

Erik nods understanding and enters the room, closing the door behind him. “Is that the  necklace?”

“Yeah,” Emma says, adjusting the last of her makeup and standing up, giving Erik a twirl. “You think I’m ready?”

“You’re as ready as you’ll ever be.” He grins, coming up to her. “You look beautiful, Emma.”

Feeling the sincerity off of him, Emma smiles and hugs him. “Thank you for being my brother, Erik.”

His chest vibrates in a quick laugh. “It’s not like you gave me much of a choice.”

“Oh, stop ruining this moment,” She replies, lightly hitting his chest.

He hands her the bouquet. “Come on; let’s get you going, your dad’s waiting to deliver you.”

 

* * *

 

Charles accompanies Moira to her father, giving her away and kissing her cheek before meeting his husband near the end of the aisle.

Her father smiles at her. “My beautiful girl,” He says, plucking a strand of hair away behind her ear. “Are you ready?”

Moira smiles, looking down at herself, light gold dress, hair short and curly around her, bouquet of white and gold roses tight in her hand, and then back up to her dad. “I think I am.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this was a bit shorter than intended but I am pleased. Thank you for taking the time to read it & comment, it's been a wild ride with these ladies :3

                                                                  

 

Emma remembers the first time she saw Moira MacTaggert.

She remembers Erik telling her something as she was readjusting on her favorite earrings; something along the lines of “ _Please, Emma, I really, really like this guy_.”

“Must be a first then,” She said, smirking. “You, by rule, don’t like anybody.”

He had rolled his eyes and puffed, crossing his arms. “Yeah, and if we could avoid that little tidbit of you being sarcastic half of the time, that would be great.”

Emma laughed. “Oh come on, I’m not that bad.”

They were waiting on a table Erik himself had reserved, _\--“Wow, Erik. This guy must be pretty special for you to reserve a table.”_ —and Erik was nervous, which was a rare sight on him. It took all her might not to tease him too much that night. “We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, uh—” Erik sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, okay, yeah. Emma, look, you’re the only family I have left so… could you please just… help me out?”

“Help you out?” Emma had asked, constricting herself not to laugh. “Erik, we’re sitting at four star restaurant for me to meet this guy; I think you have everything under control.”

He rearranged his suit for what had appeared to be the fifth time tonight. “Okay, okay. I got this,” He said to himself, then looking at Emma. “Remember what I told you, right?”

“Yeah, his name is Charles, no asking about the wheelchair and no mind touching, even though he’s a fellow telepath.”

“He’s bringing a friend.”

“What?”

“Yeah, his best friend, since college. So, yeah, just please… for me, I have never asked anything form you.”

Emma wanted to smack him, the nervousness was cute but really, it was getting old. She simply rolls her eyes.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

She turns around to see Charles smiling up at her, he was a handsome man. She extends her arm to greet him—she doesn’t bound down for a kiss on a cheek, Erik told her Charles didn’t like when people who didn’t know him did that—and he smiles, taking her hand and shaking it softly. “Emma Frost,” She says, smiling.

Charles grins back. “Charles Xavier, nice to meet you.”

Emma steps aside for Erik to bend down and kiss him on the check. “Glad you could make it,” He says and Emma is completely surprised with how composed he sounded, considering he was having a mini heart attack just a couple of seconds ago. “Where’s Moira?”

“She’s parking the car, was complaining about how expensive the valet was, she’ll be here soon.”

Emma smiles as they all sit down, Charles and Erik making polite conversation as Emma looked over the menu, even though she already knew what she was getting. She had decided she liked Charles Xavier, his smile was genuine and he was pretty handsome… and it was nice seeing Erik not as stiff as he usually he when suddenly her thoughts are interrupted with: “I’m so sorry, had to resign to the valet anyway.”

Charles laughs. “It’s okay, love. I told you you would eventually, though.”

“Moira,” Erik says with what only Emma would consider was a smile, she was still looking at the menu when—“I’m glad you could make it, I want you to meet my friend, Emma.”

And that’s the moment—the couple of seconds where Emma stopped reading the white wines section and looked up—when she saw her. Beautiful dark doe eyes, brown hair up in a messy, but stylish bun, body wrapped in a beautiful light gray one shoulder and Emma had to resist sighing lovingly. _Where have you been all my life?_ “It’s a pleasure.” She says softly, extending an arm as well, suddenly feeling a bit awkward, not really sure how to greet her.

Thankfully, she took her hand without haste. “Same.”

And now, Emma Frost watched as Moira walked from the other aisle with her father in arm, light-golden dress, beautiful brown curls by her sides and her heart was hammering against her own white gown. _I am marrying you, I am going to marry you._

When they finally meet in the center of the aisle, they intertwined their arms and walked the rest of the aisle, together. Both smiling.

 

* * *

 

 

The moment when the priest says that the couple has each written they’re own vows makes Moira’s stomach sink, all of them were looking at her right now and she felt her heartbeat quicken, she bites the inside of her cheek takes a deep breath.

“I remember the first time I saw you, Emma. You were reading the sections on white wines as when you looked up, I remember thinking ‘ _Oh my god, she’s beautiful’_ at the time I was just focused on work and Charles had told me about this guy he was dating but I never, in a million years, thought I would be meeting the love of my life. I guess life has just this funny way of arranging stuff, you know? I’m clumsy with words, I’m much better with stealth and other things that but Emma… words cannot express how much I love you, how _in_ love with you I am. The more I get to know you, the deeper I fall. The fact that when you sleep you don’t snore, but when you are exhausted from a long day at work, you mumble in your sleep. The fact that you always know which exact flavor of coffee I need depending on the mood, the fact that we can still make fun of Erik when he’s not around—”

“ _Hey_!”

_“Hush, darling.”_

“The point is, I have always thought that I was not enough for you. I mean, look at me, I’m a simple human… and you… you’re diamond! A beautiful, strong, intelligent woman who also has such an incredible power and strength to her and I just… I’m not much, Emma, but if you give me a chance, I will be anything and everything you deserve or I’ll die trying.”

She sees Emma shed a tear and she lets out a breath in relief. “Well,” Emma says, trying to dry her tears. “I had a whole speech planned out but now that I’m crying I think I can only give some.” She says, wiping it away.

She sees Moira smile.

“Moira MacTaggert. You want to know the first thing I thought about you when I met you? _‘Where have you been all my life?’_ That was it. And that was just because I was incredibly attracted to you. You can imagine my disbelief when I started realizing I was actually falling in love with you… and even more when you were falling in love with me. I love you, Moira. I love you so much it actually surprises me… and I hope it keeps surprising me because I am planning on never, ever letting you go. I plan on giving you everything you deserve in this world and more. And Moira… stop saying you’re not enough. You are, in fact, you’re too good for me.”

A tear of her own escapes Moira’s eyes as their hands grip each other tighter. “I now pronounce you wives; you may kiss your partner.”

The world goes dim for a moment, when all they can see is each other and everything is light, and beautiful and content and when their lips meet they know, this is love, it is theirs and this is their moment to glow, they separate their lips and smile.

“Hey Mrs. Frost-MacTaggert.” Moira smiles.

“Hello, Mrs. Frost-MacTaggert.”

 

* * *

 

_After Party_

Taking pictures has never felt more tiresome, but Moira was exhausted of smiling with family members as a bright light flashed and a picture was taken. All she wanted was to go up to their honeymoon suit and lay down… possibly with her new wife, but as she felt her heels tight on her feet, she was about willing to go and meet her halfway there, that is until Charles took her by the elbow.

“Come on, sweetheart, time for your first dance.”

Moira was dreading this moment—all eyes on her as she tried to awkwardly dance with her refined lover— _wife, MacTaggert, she’s your wife now_ —and everyone stared before joining in.

Charles lead her to the center of the ballroom and Emma was already there waiting, smiling. “Don’t be afraid, I don’t bite,” She says, easing the tension off of her shoulders a bit. _Relax, love. If we have a blunder, a quick mindwipe will fix everything._

Moira laughs. _You can solve all your problems with that, you know?_

“I can try,” She says audibly, as she puts her hand on Moira’s waist, who puts her hand on her shoulder. The music starts and it’s the original rendition of _La Vie en Rose_ by Edith Piaf. They start slowly, twirling around in small movements, moving like water with each other. They could be staring at her, her feet could be on fire, but she didn’t care, at least not at this very second when Emma looked so radiant as she did, when all she could focus on was her. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Emma says, giving her a soft twirl and kissing her lightly.

 

* * *

 

Which each passing second, Charles was regretting not having Erik on a leash.

“Time for the bouquet toss!” Emma screamed as Angel, Kitty, Jean, Marie and various other family members gathered around. The crowd chanted ‘ _One, Two, Three!’_ as Moira was pushed by her wife to throw her gold and white bouquet first into the pile, which happened to land in Marie’s hands. She blushed as people nudged Remy towards her.

“My turn!” Emma says as she turns around, letting the crowd chant _‘One, Two, Three!’_ again before throwing her bouquet when suddenly, Charles had to resist the urge to laugh and hit him.

“I got it!” Erik said, jumping and somehow—to everyone’s amazement—managed to catch the bouquet with his _fucking_ _teeth_.

“You’re already married, you jackass!” He could hear Raven from the other side of the circle.

“I do what I want.” Was Erik’s response as Charles rolled his eyes and wheeled in.

“Come on, Erik.”

“This is my revenge for making fun of me behind my back, you know.”

Moira laughs. “Worth it.” As Charles sighs and rubs his temple, considering why he loved this ridiculous man… that is until Erik leaned down and kissed him, whispering some filthy things about what to do as soon as everyone’s gone and – _oh, that’s why._

 

* * *

 

“Charles!” He hears his sister in the middle of the cake cutting ceremony, apparently they both smashed cake into each other’s mouths and we’re now giggling about it. “I need you to watch Kurt for a second while I take this phone call, okay? I can’t find Azazel anywhere and I really, really need to take this.” She says, dumping his little blue nephew on his lap and she disappears into the crowd.

Charles takes five year old Kurt and kisses his cheek. “Well, mommy sure seems busy.”

“Poof,” He says and Charles blinks confused for a second. “Poof,” Kurt says again with a clap of his hands, grinning. “Poof!”

“Darling, I don’t know what is it that you—”

And then— _poof_ —Kurt disappeared into thin air. _Holy shit,_ Kurt was a teleporter like his father…and Charles just _lost_ him.

 _Fuck_.

 

* * *

 

Erik sighed; he knew this was going to happen.

When Moira knelled and started peeling Emma’s garter off, she had done it subtle and posh enough to be considered PG… or at least PG13, which was good enough for Erik.

However… “ _Emma_!” He said, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up, who was half way near tearing Moira’s undergarments off and “Oh my god, Emma, there are children here.”

Emma laughs as Moira blushes and fixes her dress. The rest of the crowd laughs too, more at Emma than the event herself. “Oh come on, Erik!” She says, hitting his arm softly. “It was getting good!”

He sees from the corner of his eyes Moira rolling her eyes, he knew he liked her for a reason. “Oh, Emma behave.”

Emma huffs and crosses her arms, to which Moira responded by kissing her cheek. Emma softens.

Erik smiles, content seeing his little sister so happy and bright.

 

* * *

 

“I paid for our honeymoon suite to be covered in rose petals; I didn’t as for a specific color, so we could find a rainbow up there.”

“Oh my god, Moira, what are we even waiting for? Race you there.”

* * *

 

 

It’s nearly midnight when everyone starts leaving, the brides have disappeared without a trace and Erik is left to tell everyone _good bye_ and _thank you for coming._

 _Where the hell is Charles?_ He thinks. _He’s so much better at these things than I am._

And that is the moment when Erik looks into the corridor and sees Charles wheeling down at an insane speed, vaguely shouting: “ _Kurt, Kurt! Come on, come to uncle Charles before Mommy kills me!”_ and Erik sees various puffs of smoke that go in and out of the room, a vague little blue figure following them.

 _Never mind,_ Erik thinks. _Better find the boy before Raven leaves me without a husband._

 

* * *

 

Carrying Moira over the threshold was not necessary, but Emma felt like showing off anyway.

“I know you’re strong, love.” Moira says as Emma gently lets her down. “With that diamond body of yours, of course you are.”

“Now, now, before we do anything,” Emma says grinning, she closes the door and takes Moira’s hands in hers, staring at her. “Moira Frost-MacTaggert, I love you. I can’t believe we’re married.”

“I love you too, Emma Frost-MacTaggert.” She replies, kissing her deeply. “Now, wait here, I got a surprise.” She says as she kisses her again quickly before going into the bathroom. Emma takes the moment to discard her dress and change into a white teddy she had Angel stuff in the room somewhere.

When the door opens, Emma quickly positions herself between the gold and white petals on their bed and waits for Moira, who comes out of the bathroom wearing a black teddy, her hair wild around her and a pair of stocking that make Emma’s mouth salivate. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Emma repeats. “I think that if you don’t get here right now, I might start crying.”

Moira giggles as she crawls on top of her wife and kisses her softly, their bodies intertwining with one another. Their wedding rings shinning among the lit candles around them.

 


End file.
